Five weeks
by DurMeleth
Summary: 3x09 related so spoilers for people who didn't see it! Felicity's feelings after Oliver left.


**A/N : Hi everyone! So, I'm quite new in the Arrow fandom, I only started to watch the show two months ago. Of course, I loved it! (Seriously, who wouldn't?). So, after this FREAKING episode, I had to write something to continue it, as I like to do it! ^^ So here it is. English isn't my mother language, so if you see any mistakes, feel free to tell me, I won't be offended! :D**

**A big big thank you to my friend darkduby who made me discover the show and helped me with this OS! :D**

**I don't owe any of the characters, sadly for me... ;)**

**Enjoy! :D**

* * *

Three weeks. Three weeks since Oliver got up the stairs for the last time, leaving her behind. Felicity tried to keep up, to carry on with her life, but some days were harder than others. Some days, she would get up of bed almost forgetting that he was gone. She would take her breakfast, shower, get dressed, and brush her teeth. She would leave her apartment, closing her door behind her and getting in her car. She would enter the building of Palmer Technologies, saying "good morning" to everyone she'd pass by and sitting down on her chair, in her office. She would accept any task Ray Palmer asked of her and ignore him as he asked her how she was doing. He wasn't insisting, now, anyway, so he'd return to his office, throwing a last glance in her direction before sweeping off the door. She would carry on with her day until it was time to leave. Then, she'd get back to her car, going back home. She would busy herself cooking a small diner, sometimes calling her mom doing so and she'd eat, before preparing herself to bedtime. She'd read one or two chapters of a book she kept on her nightstand or she'd inform herself of the latest technologies available with her laptop. Then, she'd turn the light off and fall asleep.

There were also the bad days. On these ones, she would wake up with a bad feeling, not knowing why. During breakfast, she would turn on the TV and watch the news. There, she'd see his face, smiling back at her but always frozen in his official missing person picture. Then, everything would fall on her again. Their first meeting. The laptop. His first smirk towards her. The time she asked if she could trust him. The first time she was worried about him. The first time he revealed himself to her and trusted her. The first time she assisted him plainly on a mission. The first time she spent the entire night at the Verdant. The first time she had been in danger and he saved her. The first time they saved the city. Together. The first time her chest constricted at the sight of him. The first time her mouth dried when he looked at her _that_ way. The first time they touched. The tickles she felt along her skin the first time he took her hand. The comfort she felt the first time he took her in his arms. In those moments, she'd always feel the ghost of his lips tingling on hers and mostly on her forehead, where he kissed her for the last time. When it was this kind of day, there was often a lot of crying involved. Only when she was alone, though. She'd keep going to work, avoiding her boss like the plague. And when her day would be ending, she'd head off to the Verdant. Then, most of the time, she would find herself in front of the computers that she'd never turn on : what would be the point? She couldn't help him anymore. She would start to cry. Quiet sniffles or big sobs that echoed through the whole room. It'd depend of the day. Sometimes, she'd cry all night long and sometimes, she'd calm herself quickly. Then, she'd use her time to think about him and remember him.

Today was one of these days. After work, she had found herself climbing in her car and as soon as she had been under the nightclub, she had started to sob quietly. She succeeded to calm herself quickly and stayed sitting on her chair, losing herself in her thoughts. She looked around her and saw the fern, two tables away. Seeing that it was a little down, she went fetching water to pour in its pot. She looked at the plant fondly and remembered the smile that had gratified her the day she gave it to Oliver. Suddenly, she heard the door opening and footsteps going down the stairs. For one moment, Felicity hoped. She hoped that he came back. But when the person came in sight, she realized it was only Diggle. She was happy to see him, though. They had seen each other from time to time and he invited her to diner at his place, at least once a week, but it wasn't quite the same.

"Diggle! Hi!"

"Felicity! How are you?" he asked, hugging her tightly. She relaxed in his arms. But even that didn't feel right. It wasn't Oliver's arms.

"I'm… Okay. I guess." She said, extracting herself and returning to her chair.

"I miss him, too."

"I… I didn't say that I…"

"You didn't have to."

"How do you know?"

"Well, for a start, I know how you feel about him. You keep forgetting that. I also know you've been here regularly."

"How?"

"The fern." He gave her an understood look. She smiled softly, almost apologetically.

"It's been three weeks, John…" she said, sighing.

"I know. But we have to keep hope."

"We hadn't got any news…" she started to protest.

"If he was dead, I think we'd know it. Especially you. You know him better than anyone, Felicity. You always knew when was in danger."

"It's not the same, John. I already knew he was in danger when he left. He defied Ra's al Ghul, for God's sake!"

"Tell me you don't feel that he's alive."

"I can't. I feel like… Like it's what I feel, inside of myself, but I'm so scared that it's only hope…" she said, tears starting to show in her eyes.

Diggle took the chair next to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"You know, your hope is what kept him alive from the moment you met. Don't lose that and everything will be fine."

She turned to look him in the eyes. He smiled softly at her. As she returned it, he leaned forward to hug her again.

"Thanks, John."

"You're welcome."

* * *

Two weeks later, she was ready to go to sleep when she heard someone knocking on her door. Frowning, she returned in her living room to grab her sweater to put on her pyjamas and opened the door. There, she stayed unmoving, her jaw hanging down.

"Oliver?"

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**A/N : So, let me know what you thought ! :D**


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